It's been about a month since you left, and I'm missing you quite terribly. It seems like it was only moments ago when we were cruising and holding hands. You seduced me with your voice, and it is etched on my mind that we eventually went from 1st-3rd together. I love how you'd scream when I'd push deeper into you with my right foot and how you'd tweak my ear with this thing you call a clutch. I never knew that 200 horses could sound that good.
I love how you stand out so much with your imperfections and I bask in how many heads you turn. Turning heads and jaw-dropping stares are fine for as long as they know that I am the only one that rides you at night. I guess many here are so used to the German, Italian, and British ladies that they've forgotten that you French, have the most 'je ne sais quois' or 'x-factor'. I miss feeling your soft buttery leather wrapped around me and your scent that sticks with me when we're apart.
I can't wait to see you again, and always remember, I am only human. I cannot read your mind. You need to tell me what you want, and you need to tell me how you feel. Please don't keep me guessing. Surprising me with bits of understeer in the middle of a hairpin isn't very pleasant and it's a habit you can do without.
Other than that, you are as perfectly French as they come and I cannot wait to ride you again. 1st to 3rd was good, but let's go all the way next time.
With deep affection,